


when you're not feeling holy

by Sour_Idealist



Series: Sweetened Nights [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Comfort Sex, F/M, Post-Promise of Destruction, Praise Kink, Rest of Series Not Required
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-18 22:33:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11884230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sour_Idealist/pseuds/Sour_Idealist
Summary: “You’ve… made some invitations, at times,” Cassandra said, sliding onto the bench next to him. The drink that she set next to her looked barely touched. “To me. Intimate ones.” Her ears went pink.“I did, yeah,” Bull said carefully, trying to ignore the hitch in his heartbeat.





	when you're not feeling holy

**Author's Note:**

> Title, like the series title, from "The Sisters of Mercy" by Leonard Cohen.

“Bull?”

It was a clear night, and the Herald’s Rest was empty, everyone up drinking on the battlements. Seeing Cassandra in the tavern wasn’t shocking – she came in for a drink now and then – but she’d left her breastplate and gorget straps off, which he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before. And she’d come from the bar straight to Bull. “May I join you?” she asked.

“Sure, of course,” Bull said, making room. “What’s going on?”

“You’ve… made some invitations, at times,” Cassandra said, sliding onto the bench next to him. The drink that she set next to her looked barely touched. “To me. Intimate ones.” Her ears went pink.

“I did, yeah,” Bull said carefully, trying to ignore the hitch in his heartbeat. Damn. This he hadn’t expected. Her thigh pressed against his; she twitched away for a moment, then shifted back.

“I realize you may not have been entirely serious,” Cassandra said, “and I know that I said – that is to say – it was some time ago – forget I said anything.” She stood; Bull caught at her hand.

“Hey, hey, hold on,” he said, tugging at her wrist. He kept it gentle, his grip loose and light – Cassandra could probably pry herself free from any grip he didn’t really work at, but that wasn’t the point. “If that was going where I think it was going, it’s not an opportunity I want to miss. Was it?”

“It was a stupid idea,” she said. “Forget it.”

“Okay.” Bull dropped her hand. “Have a good night, Seeker.” Cassandra looked at the door, then back to him, biting her lip.

“You mean it?” she asked. “You would be willing?”

“Yeah,” Bull said. “Anytime.”

Cassandra exhaled, closing her eyes. “Your bedroom, then?”

“Okay.” Bull reached out again, taking both her hands in his. “Okay, sure. Hey, first, though. You mind telling me what changed?”

“Does it matter?” she asked.

“You’d know better than I would, but I’m thinking probably it does,” Bull says. “I mean, _something_ changed. You didn’t say no, before, you said never. And I don’t want to pry, but you look pretty upset right now.” He traced his thumb across the back of her hand. “I’m glad to help, don’t get me wrong. But I figured I’d ask.”

She sighed. “You know that the Inquisitor and I were going to try and find out what had happened to the Seekers of Truth.”

“I heard something about it,” he allowed. “I’m guessing – no, that can’t be it. If you didn’t find them, you’d keep looking. I’m guessing you found them, and it wasn’t good.”

“It was not.” She opened her eyes at last. “Another time, I would welcome your opinion on matters. Yours, I think, in particular, after what happened with the dreadnaught. But tonight, I think… I want to step outside myself. I want to forget.”

“Okay,” Bull said, and stood, pulling her close. “I can make that happen.” He bent his head; she didn’t look up, so he just kissed her forehead. “My room isn’t much, but it’s right upstairs. C’mon.”

She dropped his hands to lead the way up the stairs, and Bull followed, not bothering to be subtle; there was no one here, and nobody with eyes would be fooled anyway. Besides, he didn’t like hiding, and the line between hiding and being subtle blurred pretty quickly.

He never locked his door – the only people he could imagine trying to rob him were Sera and Harding, neither of whom would give a fuck about a lock – so Cassandra pushed it open easily, blinking around at the room behind it. “I think the Inquisition can spare resources to patch your roof,” she said. “You’re as bad as Cullen.”

“I have a tarp I put over it when it rains,” he said, shrugging, and pulled the door shut behind him. “I’m used to it.” She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face; he settled his hands on her hips.

“Hey,” he said. “Stay with me, huh? Unless you really want to sit here and talk about my roof.”

“You are correct,” she said, and turned under his hands to face him. The corner of her mouth tugged up. “I didn’t.”

“That’s what I thought,” he said, and kissed her. It started out gentle; nobody came to him for a gentle fuck, so he scraped his teeth along her lip and followed it with his tongue. She bit back, hard enough to sting, and his cock twitched to attention.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling back. “That’s better.” He squeezed her ass, because it was fantastic; she jumped a little. “So, Cassandra. How do you like it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Wait, what?” He stepped back just a little, though he didn’t let go of her. “Oh, wait, are the Seekers one of _those –”_

“What?”

“You know, no sex allowed?”

“No!” Cassandra flushed. “That is to say – no, I’m not a _virgin._ ” She said it with some indignation. “Although I suppose I should be flattered that your first thought was vows of celibacy.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Never mind.” She sighed. “I’ve never been to bed with someone I didn’t care for.” She winced, eyes wide in immediate consternation. “Not that I don’t care for you! I do, very much. Just – as a friend.”

“It’s okay,” he said, rubbing her back. “I get it, makes sense.”

“It does?” She squinted at him, shoulders hunching just slightly – suspicious, defensive. Huh.

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging. “I mean, I’ve seen you reading in the courtyard –”

“Oh, for – I didn’t realize anything was looking.”

He grinned at her. “Ben-Hassrath, remember?”

“I do. Perhaps I should not be surprised.” She shook her head, reaching up to push her hair out of her eyes. “So. This sort of arrangement is… unusual, for me. Very much so. And it has been a very long time.”

“If you change your mind,” he said. “It’s fine. If I’m too worked up I have a good right hand.”

“I don’t make idle decisions,” she said, and twisted her hand into his harness to pull him down for another kiss. It was rough again, biting, and Bull pulled her close but he couldn’t help thinking of the tiny smile on her face, watching Josie and the boss cross the gardens hand in hand.

“You know,” he said, lips brushing against hers, “I can talk a pretty good game, if you want.”

She flinched. “Don’t lie to me. I don’t – I would _never_ want that.”

“Who said anything about lying?” Bull said, running his fingers under the edge of her tunic. “There’s about three things I won’t do in bed, and lying’s one of them.” Though for Cassandra – for Cassandra with something horrible and hollow in her face – he might have been willing to pretend. But then, of course Cassandra would have no use for anything but the truth.  “I’m pretty damned tired of lying anyway.”

Her eyes went soft. “Of course.” She cupped his cheek. She’d had his back with the boss at the Storm Coast, watched him and Gatt talk – of course she got it. “I apologize. I didn’t think.”

“You’re not supposed to be thinking anyway,” Bull said. His voice was rougher than he’d expected. Huh. To cover it, he tilted his head, sucking quickly at the tip of her finger. Her breath caught; he could hear it. “That’s my job.”

“Ah.” She was flushing, just a little; she left her fingers against his mouth. “What were you offering, if not lying?”

“There’s a lot I can say to you,” he said, “without lying.” He grabbed her wrist, pulled her other hand forward to fold both her wrists together into his left hand. He squeezed, just enough so that she’d need to work to get out of his grip. “You still liking where this is going?”

“You certainly have my attention,” she said, a little dryly. “What do you intend to say?”

“Well.” He tilted his head carefully, keeping his horns out of the way as he scraped his teeth along her neck. She shivered. “Start with the easy stuff. The way you fight.”

“I already knew you admired that.” She tested his grip, just a little; it wasn’t even close to her full strength.

“Yeah, but I didn’t get detailed about it,” he said, and kissed her throat again. “You’re pretty graceful for a heavy fighter, you know that?” Another kiss, this time sucking a little harder. “The way you use your shield – no more movement than you need, no less. You get it right where you need to be.” He paused, his mouth hovering above her skin. “Okay, except for that one fight with the bears.”

“Oh, shut up!” she said, but she laughed. “Very well, I admit I may not have… prioritized targets well, that time. But we all survived, surely that counts for something.”

“Yeah, it does,” he said, and kissed her jawline. “Also, that thing you’ve done a few times? With the Frostback, I remember that – I swear I thought that was it for us, and then you started shouting, and we all managed to get our asses up and hit back for a while.”

“What – oh, I know what you mean,” she said. “It’s a Templar trick, the rallying cry, though the Seekers use it as well. We’re both taught to rely on our comrades.”

“It’s hot as hell,” Bull said, kissing her throat again. “Taarsidath-an halsaam –” He paused, translating. “Means I respect the hell out of you for it and I’ve thought of it with a hand down my pants at least four times.”

“Truly?”

“Yeah,” Bull said, nuzzling at the spot under her ear. “I told you, no lying.”

“That’s true, you did.” She was a little breathless, by now. “I apologize. I should have trusted – ah!” He’d bitten her.

“Oh, you like that, huh?”

“Yes, I did,” she said. “But I meant what I was saying – I trust you – _ah!_ Maker, Bull, you’ll leave a mark!”

“Yeah, so?” he asked, lifting his head. There was already a faint pink circle on her skin. “You don’t like that?”

He could feel her shiver. “Maybe… lower,” she said. “Varric will smirk at me otherwise.”

“Fair enough.” He adjusted, though he had to pull her head back to get room to maneuver his horns. By the way she gasped when he grabbed at her hair, it wasn’t an issue. “Leave all the marks you want on me, though. I can’t hide much anyway, and it won’t bother me.”

“Noted,” she said, smirking. The smile faded; she bit at her lip. “What else?”

“Hm…” He stroked his hand up and down the muscled planes of her back, under her clothes. “All this, too. You look amazing. Seriously.” He pulled her wrists up over her head and got started on the fastenings of her shirt. “I can’t wait to get a better look.”

“You may have to let go of my wrists, first,” Cassandra said.

“Ah, shut up,” Bull said, swatting gently at her ass; she jumped in his grip, laughing again.

“Bull!”

“Hey, it’s a nice ass,” he said, letting her go. She reached for her buttons, and he knocked her hands aside. “No, c’mon, let me do that.”

“You want to?”

“You _know_ I’ve been wanting to for months,” he said.

“I hadn’t thought taking anything _off_ figured into your imagination,” she said, and Bull burst out laughing.

“Depends on the day,” he said, and finally got her tunic open enough to pull it over her head, along with the shirt underneath. “Oh, damn, I knew you’d look good.” Her breasts made his mouth water; so did the sharp well-used muscles of her stomach, the scarring on her ribs, the faint visible glimpse of her hipbones.

“Are you going to do anything or just look?” Cassandra asked, folding her arms. It shifted her breasts intriguingly, but also, she wasn’t quite meeting his eyes. Defensive, uncertain.

“Oh, I’m going to do more than look,” Bull said, and scooped her up, one hand pressing into her back and the other under her hips. She yelped softly, wrapping her legs around his waist, and he shifted her weight, making sure she could feel his hardening cock against the inside of her thigh. “So, I’m thinking… wall, bed, we got some options here.”

“I… wherever you want to put me,” she said, sounding a little dazed. She clung to his shoulders, leaning her face into his throat.

“Oh, that’s how it is,” Bull said, squeezing her ass again. (Seriously, it was a _great_ ass.) He wasn’t all that surprised, truth be told – she took charge a lot, but always like a duty, not like an ambition or a right. She could bowl most people over, but only because she threw her whole weight behind everything she did. He took another three steps and dropped her on the bed, following her down to trap her on the mattress. She was smiling, lips parted. “Guess we’ll start here, then.” And he lowered his head to her breasts, licking between them, up, over her nipple. She whimpered.

“Damn, you’re sensitive,” he murmured. She reached for him; he caught her wrists again, pinning her hands to the bed. “Nah, just lie back. Let me touch you.”

“I can do that,” she murmured, relaxing as he buried his face in her breasts for a moment, lifted his head to lick at the planes of her stomach. He could feel her drawing her breath.

“It’s not just how you look, you know,” he said, and nipped at her hip. This next part was either going to be exactly what she needed, or she’d end up crying into his chest while he stroked her hair – which he could do if she needed, but it wasn’t what she’d asked of him. “You’re maybe the bravest woman I’ve ever met.”

“Am I?” she asked, her voice cracking. “Am I truly?”

“Yeah,” he said, burying a kiss between her breasts again. “I mean, come on. Dragons, bears – you don’t even flinch.” He sucked at her nipple, just for a moment. “You walked away from your home to do the right thing – what, twice? Three times? I did it once. Can’t begin to imagine doing it again.” He kissed her throat.

“You could,” she said, voice rough. “If you needed to. I know you have it in you.”

“Uh-uh, we’re not talking about me.” He kissed her mouth, dirty and slow. “Plus, there’s the Inquisition.”

“What about it?”

“I’ve known a few people brave enough to start something like this,” he said, palming her breast. She closed her eyes; her teeth dug into her lip. “Fewer who could have that kind of power and ever trust it to anyone else. Josie’s like that – you give her a responsibility and she never puts it down.” Mentioning Josie in bed might have been a mistake, but she didn’t flinch. “People who could do both, start it and then let it go? That’s a short damn list, Cassandra. You’re pretty special.”

“I wonder every day,” she said. “Every day, if I chose right. Adaar has done well, but –”

“If you did wrong, the rest of the world should try to do as well as your wrong,” Bull interrupted, kissing her mouth. “Let it be.”

“No lies?” she asked, and shook her head. “No, of course not. You promised me.”

Bull’s heart turned over. _Hissrad._ “I did,” he said, instead of anything else, and kissed her eyelids – left, then right. “I did. No lying.”

“Bull?” she asked, keeping her eyes closed. “I said something wrong, didn’t I?”

“No,” he said, trying to get control over his voice. “No, you didn’t.” He kissed her again, deep and slow. She kept her hands where he’d pinned them to the mattress – interesting – but she leaned up to meet him, her breasts brushing against his chest. He shifted, getting his knee between her thighs, and she bit at his lip and ground up into him. Even through her pants, he could feel the heat of her. He hooked his fingers into her waistband, saying, “Hey, let’s get these off you.”

“Mmm.” She nodded, canting her hips up; the knots holding the laces shut were easy work, and he whistled.

“Damn, nothing underneath. Knew you had a dirty streak.”

“I had to travel!” she protested, half sitting up. “For my entire life. Do you know how quickly I got tired of carrying underwear around with me?”

“Oh, I get it,” Bull said, easing the fabric down her legs. He took the opportunity to run his hands over her thighs, appreciating the corded muscle, the tiny patches of soft skin behind her knees. He half-expected her to kick him in the ribs, but she didn’t twitch. “You’re being practical.”

“I _am_! It’s not indecent. It’s not like anyone can tell.”

“Except me,” Bull said.

“You’re indecent anyway.”

“You like it,” he said, smiling, and ran his hands up her thighs again. She twitched under his touch; her knee came up, twitched sideways, and he smiled and ran his fingers up to the thicket of coarse hair between her legs. Already strands lay sodden against her skin. “You like it a _lot_.” He ran the pad of his finger along the lips of her cunt, enjoying the searing heat. Her thighs clamped shut around his hand, holding him in place; he laughed, pushing his finger deeper in. “Yeah, I thought so. Feels good, huh?” He waited for an answer.

“ _Yes,_ ” she said, grinding against him; he twisted his wrist, rubbing his finger against her clit, and got a shocked and breathy cry. “Oh, please –”

“Yeah,” he said, using his other hand to ease her legs open. He shifted, withdrawing his finger just to press it not against her clit but _under_ it, where sometimes – yup, there it was, Cassandra whining slow between her teeth. “You deserve it, you know,” he said. “You deserve to feel this good – always. Whenever you want it.” That got a gasp out of her, too. He brushed her hair away from her forehead with his other hand and dragged his finger through her folds again. “You deserve to be happy.” Water glittered on her lashes; he brushed his thumb carefully over the corner of one eye, then the other, wiping the tears away. “Want me to keep going?”

“Please,” she said, ragged, nodding against his hand. “Please, I want you to.”

“Want me to fuck you?” he asked. “I check up with the healers a bunch, and I can’t get you pregnant – there’s no half-Qunari.”

“Then yes,” she said, twisting her hands into the sheets. “Do it.”

“Give me a few more minutes with my hands first,” he said. “Unless you like it _really_ rough.” He rubbed a small tight circle over her clit again, then dipped his finger back into her, sinking deeper this time. She threw her head back, exposing the sharp corded muscles of her throat, the bruises from earlier purple-red and lovely. Bull traced the line of a tendon down to her shoulder, dug his thumbnail into a bruise while he crooked the finger inside her. She arched off the bed, silent except for a short huff of air.

“You’re a force of nature, Cassandra,” Bull said. His own voice was hoarse by now, his breath coming faster. “And you’re a fucking amazing woman. You’re tough, but you never let it keep you from caring, and you – ah –” He got another finger into her, and the tight clutch of her cunt shattered his thoughts.  

“Please,” she panted, “Bull, please – I don’t care if it hurts –”

“Okay, okay.” He bent to kiss her again, distracted and sloppy, and pulled his hand out of her. She moaned into his mouth, raising her hips to follow his hand, and he sat back up, licking his fingers clean. Her slick tasted sour and alive, and he hummed around his fingers, chasing the edges with his tongue. Her eyes cracked open, watching him. “Damn, but you taste good.”

He chose his pants to be easy to unfasten in a hurry (partly for things like this, partly for nights when he was too tired to walk straight); two buckles unsnapped and he had his cock in his still-wet hand. He ran his dry fingers up and down Cassandra’s thigh, a quick gentling touch, before he pushed her leg flat to the bed, spread her open with his fingers and pushed into her in one long stroke. She moaned, clutching at the sheets, and brought her other leg up around her hips, holding him in. He slumped forward, barely catching himself on one arm, hips twitching.

“Good?” he breathed.

“Please,” she panted again, “please, yes –” so he pulled out and back in, groaning as she buried her face in his shoulder. “More –” He still had one hand between them; he slid his fingers up, circling roughly over her clit again. “Bull,” she panted, “can you – talk to me, keep talking –”

“Yeah, yeah,” he breathed. She grabbed at his shoulder as he shifted, getting his good knee under him better; he caught her hand, twining their fingers together. “Fuck, you’re brave, you’re good, I said that already –” He bit down hard on his own lip, clearing his head a little. “Passion,” he managed. “You care about fucking _everything_ , everyone, and you have this faith – even after everything, you still believe in –” He thrust in hard, rubbing up under her clit at the same time, and _felt_ her clench and ripple around him as she sobbed into his shoulder, arching into him. He forced himself to be slow, rocking gentle and careful against her until she fell back against the bed.

“Want me to keep going?” he asked. She was soaked all down her thighs, now, leaving hot sticky traces on his hips, and he wanted, desperately, to move. She nodded, turning her head into the pillow. “Cass?”

“Keep going,” she said, “ _please –_ ”

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he said, and bit down hard on her shoulder, shoving into her. “Fuck, you’re fantastic, you feel amazing –” He was close enough it was hard to think, but she’d asked him to talk and he was going to talk. In a few strokes she was lifting her hips to his again, her breath quickening. He got his hand back on her clit again, clumsy with want, but she ground up against his fingers with a breathy cry, and he buried himself in her and groaned and shook and came.

It took him a moment to catch his breath, to lift his head. He shifted, and Cassandra’s thighs tightened around his hips. She was flushed, sweat-shining; she was still hanging on to his hand.

“Again?” he asked, rubbing his thumb more deliberately against her.

“Could you?” she whispered. “Please.”

“Of course.” He pinched her clit gently, and she clenched down around his oversensitive cock, making him whimper. He pulled out – she gasped, and so did he – but he made up for it by sliding his fingers right back into her, knuckle-deep. She was wetter than ever, between the two of them. He crooked his fingers and kissed her cheek.

“You know,” he said, rough, “it means a lot to me. You believe in the truth – you believe in the world being right, you believe in faith counting for something, but you _really_ believe in the truth – and you still listen to the crap that comes out of my mouth.” He pressed his fingers against her inner walls, rubbing his thumb rough on her clit still. “All this _crap_ going on in my head, and you still trust me – oh, there we go.” He could feel it now, the muscles of her cunt rippling around his fingers; he could feel her shuddering to her second orgasm, rocking up against his hand. “There we go, beautiful, there you are.” He slowed his fingers, brushing his thumb against her clit one more time – she shuddered – and slowly pulled his hand away.

“Feel all right?” he asked, rolling off her. He propped himself on his elbow, looking down. Sweat made her shine in the dim candlelight.

“Yes.” She shifted, burrowing against his side. Feathers drifted past his vision – he’d gored a pillow open again at some point. “Thank you, Bull.”

“No problem.” He tucked his arm around her shoulders, lying back. “You wanna stay? We can go again in the morning, if you want. And… I’ll be company.”

“Yes.” She grabbed for the blankets, tugging the covers up over the two of them. “Thank you. I would like that.”

“Of course.” He rubbed low circles on her back. “Of course.”

She shifted, lifting her head. “Bull?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re a good man. You’ve always been far more honest with us than we had any right to expect, and you’re – I trust you a great deal. I don’t think it makes you any less to have doubts.”

“Oh.” He flushed, hot in the darkness. “Didn’t think you were hearing too much by that point.”

“I heard enough,” she said. Carefully, she bent her head to kiss his mouth. “Tonight has been… much easier, with you. It was a gift, and I cherish it.”

“Don’t –” _Don’t mention it,_ Bull started, and then considered the serious way she was looking at him. “Glad to do it,” he said instead. “Glad to help.” He struggled to hold back a yawn, and mostly failed. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I tend to wake early,” she said, resting her head against his shoulder. “And then stay awake, whatever I do. But, if I’m up before you – I’ll meet you for breakfast.”

“Sounds good.” They were both going to need a wash in the morning, actually, but that was a problem he could put off. Right now Cassandra was smiling, that horrible emptiness gone from her face, and both of them were ready to sleep. Bull tugged his eyepatch off as an afterthought, chucking it at the nightstand, and closed his eyes. “Sleep well, Cassandra.”


End file.
